


Colour me (not quite) in Love

by Dragongirl_writer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, bellarke AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5404328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongirl_writer/pseuds/Dragongirl_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Where people are born colour blind until they touch their soulmate for the first time. <br/>Normal people find out pretty quickly if someone is their soulmate or not. Bellamy and Clarke are not normal people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour me (not quite) in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this was just a quick little one shot for my friend's Christmas package. Also as a way to get back into the swing of writing before diving back into my main project. Don't get sick people. It throws your writing schedule completely out the window and stomps on it for good measure.
> 
> Let me know what you think! xx

Bellamy kicked the door in frustration. He was going to kill Octavia. Of all the stunts she had pulled over the years, locking him in his own apartment with her best friend, Clarke, was up among the craziest. Why she thought it was a good idea, he didn’t even want to know, and what she’d hoped would become of it, even less.   
“The door is deadlocked from the outside, all the keys are gone - including the one that we still don’t know what it’s for- and we can’t get anyone to come out to free us because of the snow storm,” He shouted.   
“Windows aren’t an option either, the snow’s frozen them shut,” Clarke said as she joined him in the living area.  
“Meaning we’re stuck until O thinks her plan has had enough time to work.”   
Bellamy groaned as he flung himself onto his couch, and stared up at the ceiling. They were going to be here a while. If their turbulent history was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t come back for days. Or at least until the storm cleared up enough for them to get help.

“At least she locked us inside the apartment,” Clarke said, pacing the length of the room. “Considering how long she’s had to put up with us arguing every time we’re in the same room, I’m surprised she didn’t lock us outside the apartment.”  
“She wouldn’t want the murder charges on her hands,” Bellamy said. “Besides, it’s not my fault you seem to be always wrong about everything Princess.”  
“Do you really want to start now? Knowing her, Tavia isn’t going to be bak anytime soon. So, let’s try to get along, for the sake of our sanity, and for the condition of your apartment.”  
Bellamy laughed and looked over to her as she made her way to his dvd collection. She had told him months ago to get a Netflix account, but he was a stubborn soul and liked nothing more to rile her up, so he had refused to. Instead, he went out of his way to spend his hard earned money collecting the outdated form of media. Which now seemed to be a blessing, since the storm had seemed to knock out the wi-fi. It was taking all of his self restraint not to point that fact out to her, but he could tell that she was thinking it. You didn’t get good at arguing with someone without learning how they think after all.   
“Okay, you have a deal,” He said instead. “I promise to be on my best behaviour. What do you suggest we do in the meantime Princess?”   
“You can start by dropping the whole ‘Princess’ thing, and help me pick a movie,” Clarke said, glaring briefly at him from over her shoulder. “I’m going to assume that you’re okay with black and white, unless something happened during that date with Echo last week?”  
“You’re hilarious Princess,” Bellamy said, deadpanned. “And no, everything is still very much greyscale.”  
“Not surprised, she was way out of your league.” Clarke grabbed a dvd from the middle of a pile and stood up. “And because you called me Princess again, you just lost your right to vote.” She held up the dvd so he could see it, and he let out a groan. Of course she would pick something like that, just to piss him off.  
“I will literally pay you to pick something else,” He said. Clarke shook her head in response.  
“We’re watching The Other Boylen Girl, and you are not allowed to moan about any of the historical inaccuracies that appear in it. It’s a movie, not a documentary.”  
“Oh come on Princess, that’s a dirty play, and you know it. I can’t make any promises, and just because it’s a movie, doesn’t mean that they have to get so much stuff wrong!”  
“Talk, and I get the duct tape and use it on your face.” Clarke put the dvd in and sat on the opposite end of the couch, making Bellamy snort. He knew better than to comment on it though. She had made a fair point earlier, and though it may not be much, but he was fond of his apartment and didn’t want anything to happen to it. So he took a deep breath, and decided to try and watch the movie in silence.

His resolve to prove her wrong, and show that he could just enjoy the movie, lasted exactly fifteen minutes and forty-seven seconds.  
“That never happened! Not to mention, he would never had done that during that time period! Did they even bother doing their research, or did they just write up the script and thought it sounded close enough?”  
Clarke groaned and whacked him in the face with a cushion.   
“You were doing so well!” She said. “Why can’t you just accept that this is a movie, made to entertain people and not educate them? It’s literally a work of fiction, based on another medium of fiction-“  
“That was written by a woman who claimed to be an expert on the subject she was writing! Surely she would have been able to get it right!” Bellamy cut her off, earning him another whack with the cushion.  
“What makes you think that it wasn’t intentional?” She asked him, turning so she could face him properly. “It’s historical FICTION. It’s not supposed to be accurate. She probably made the changes to the story to make it more interesting to her targeted audience, which let’s face it, isn’t grouchy historical nerds like you.”  
“Do you really believe that Princess?” Bellamy raised an eyebrow, smiling at the scowl that crossed her face.  
“I currently believe in two things,” Clarke said. “The first thing being, no one watches this movie and actually expects it be accurate to the time period except for you. The second thing I believe, is that if you call me Princess one more time, I’m going to slap you across the face.”  
“Didn’t they teach you proper etiquette in those ivy covered schools... Princess?” Bellamy taunted, not being able to resist riling her up. Being able to rile each other up as easily as they could was the foundation of their strange friendship, if it could really be called that. Having been in enough arguments to know that Clarke never backs down from her threats, he was prepared for the oncoming slap. He managed to grab her wrist just before her hand reached her face and-  
“Oh, fuck no.”

There were many theories as to why all humans started to be born colour blind. Radiation poisoning, government experiment gone awry, the natural evolution of a species. However, no one, not even the top scientists in the world, could explain why when someone comes into physical contact with a specific person for the first time, they gain the ability to see colour. The only thing that scientists have managed to figure out over the two centuries since it developed on a world wide scale, is that when two people are able to see colour, they are the most compatible life mates for each other. Or as romantics, and honestly most of the world’s population, would call them, Soul Mates. The researched showed that the people who stayed with the people they first saw colours with ended up in much more stable and happier relationships than those who didn’t. So it was widely accepted that once you see colour, you just stick with the person that inadvertently made it happen.  
These people, Bellamy thought, didn’t have Clarke Griffin as their supposed soul mate. 

They had spent the last twenty minutes sitting on opposite sides of the living room, staring at each other in disbelief. Neither wanted to say anything to break the silence, as if doing so would make everything real. There had to be some sort of mistake, he thought. The universe, or whatever it was that decided this, had to be wrong. Clarke couldn’t possibly be his soul mate. They had spent most of their begrudging friendship in arguments with each other, to the point of almost throwing things at each other in annoyance.

“Have we really never touched each other in the three years that we’ve known each other?” Clarke asked suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts.  
“Really? That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” He looked at her incredulously. “We can see colours other than black, white and grey. You know what this implies right?”  
“Yes, I was there when Tavia met Lincoln, remember?” Clarke sighed. “There's no point in worrying about that now. It's done. I'm over the initial shock. We really have never had skin on skin - and don’t you dare make that dirty Blake - contact for three years.”  
“I guess not,” Bellamy said, still taking everything in. It was amazing how different everything looked in the colours they were meant to be in. Especially the woman in front of him. Her hair was no longer white, but, according to the app (one of those permanently on his phone, as the government had made mandatory for situations like this), a golden blonde, almost golden in the light. Her eyes, before a dullish grey, now seemed more alive with blue, cerulean if he wanted to be accurate, swirling around the iris. He tried not to read too much into the fact that he was only really interested in learning the names of the colours he saw in her.   
“Your sister is going to love this.”  
“Do we have to tell her? I mean, right away? Shouldn’t we try to figure this out first?”  
“What’s there to figure out? Yes, we argue a lot, but it’s not like we hate each other.” She casted a worried look at him. “At least, I don’t hate you. I mean, I thought I did when we first met, you were an absolute asshole to me, for what I thought was for no reason at all, but then Tavia explained everything, and yeah. I don’t hate you, I just think it’s fun to argue with you.”  
“Likewise,” Bellamy said, smiling. Her cheeks flushed a deeper colour, which he would have to look up the colour later, because it was definitely a good colour on her, and dear god, what was happening to him?  
“So, we don’t hate each other, it’s just never really occurred to either of us that we could feel the opposite for each other,” Clarke summed up. “Though, apparently your sister did.”  
“Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past her. She is going to be so smug when she comes back.”  
“No doubt. On the bright side, it’ll be cool to paint with colours now. Once I look up what they are of course,” Clarke said, finally getting out her phone to look at her app. “Apparently the colour of your couch is forest green. Huh. I like it.”  
“It’ll take some getting used to, my couch no longer being blackish. And everything else for that matter. Like, the walls. What the hell is that colour?”  
“Sunshine yellow.”  
“Not my colour.”  
“I sort of like it. Maybe not with the furniture, but it’s happy.”  
“Of course you would think that Princess.”  
“You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?”  
“Not that I know you definitely look like one, nope.”   
Clarke threw a cushion at him, making him laugh this time. 

Just then, they heard the apartment door unlock and open, a sheepish looking Octavia entering through it.  
“Oh, thank god, it worked,” She said, when she noticed the two laughing together. “Because I did not know what I was going to do if you didn’t sort out your shit before the big dinner next week. I mean, it’s my first christmas with Lincoln joining the gang, and I didn’t want him to remember it with you two exploding at each other.” She glanced between the two. “You two have sorted out your shit, right?”  
“In a manner of speaking,” Clarke said, whacking Bellamy again when he snorted. “Don’t worry, even you didn’t lock us up together, we wouldn’t have done anything to ruin your first christmas with Lincoln, right Bellamy?”  
“Yeah, yeah,” He muttered. “Still repainting the walls before then though. Seriously, who thought that was a good colour to paint an apartment. Oh god, you don’t think the rest of the apartment is this colour do you?”  
“Stop being such a drama queen, it’s not that bad,” Clarke said. “But if the yellow offends you that much, I have some eggshell white paint at home, from when mum redecorated the house last month.”  
Octavia stared at them in shock for a minute, then let out an extremely loud squeal and somehow managed to tackle them both.  
“Oh my god, are you serious? You can both see colour? Holy crap, this is amazing,” Octavia started to gush. “I knew you guys had some serious sexual tension, despite how much I did not want to think about that in context to my own brother, but for you guys to be soul mates, this is perfect! We’re going to be sisters!” She pulled Clarke into a tighter hug (Clarke didn’t even know that was possible at this point), and kissed her on the cheek.  
“Geez, slow down O, we haven’t even so much as shaken hands yet, it’s a little early to be talking like that,” Bellamy said, trying to pry her off of her poor friend.  
“Then how did you start to see colours then?” Octavia asked, confuse.  
“I may have tried to slap him, and he may have grabbed my wrist to stop me,” Clarke explained, causing Octavia to start laughing.  
“That actually really suits you two,” She said. “So, I assume I can add you for the family dinner at christmas as well?”  
“I always come for dinner,” Clarke said, raising an eyebrow. “And your brother is right, we need to test the waters before we do anything like adding me to the family cards. Just because we’re ‘meant to be’ or whatever, doesn’t mean it’s going to be all sunshine and rainbows. Just look at my parents.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Speaking of which, I promised to have dinner with mum and Marcus tonight. If I leave now, I might just be able to make myself look decent before I see them.” Octavia winced guiltily.  
“Sorry, I had forgotten about that,” She said. “Good luck.”  
“Thanks, and it’s alright,” Clarke said as she grabbed her coat. “If I’m late, I’m late. Luckily mum is just happy that I’m showing up at all, given how much the internship has been kicking my butt.”  
“You still have tomorrow off as well, right?” Bellamy asked. Both of the women turned and gave him a questioning look. “What? I pay attention.”  
“Yeah, I have tomorrow free before I’m back into the rotation,” Clarke responded with a sigh. “I may not remember why I became a doctor right now, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me when I see the kids. Coffee tomorrow morning?”  
“See if we can do this thing without arguing,” He agreed.   
“I wouldn’t bet on that.” She walked up to him, and gave him a quick peck on the lips, laughing at the look on his face when she pulled away. She made her way to the door. “I’ll message you after the dinner, Tavia. Bye!”  
Bellamy stood frozen to the spot, still trying process what just happened. He looked over to his sister, who was now opening laughing at him, and glared at her.  
“So, do you think she’d want a summer wedding, or spring?”  
“Shut up O.”


End file.
